No Escape
by HallieBotham
Summary: There is no escape from destiny, those already written or those still to be decided.  Eventually, destiny comes to pass.   I do not own Harry Potter, or anything connected to it, unfortunately. JK has that honour.  WARNING: There is slash in this story.
1. Chapter 1

For the first time in almost two decades, he was uncertain as to what action to take. As one who rarely left things unplanned, or to chance, it was a feeling that was most disconcerting. Severus Snape let his coal black eyes take in the sight before him with a shiver of apprehension. He had not anticipated this eventuality, had not fathomed in his wildest imaginings that the Dark Lord would have had the bollocks to do something such as this. By rights, he should have. The bizarre mix of omnipresent war general and impulsive guerrilla was a major part of the attraction the side of He Who Must Not Be Named had once held for him.

Severus grasped his wand tightly in his hand. From his hiding place in the shadowed thicket of trees near the Shrieking Shack, he was for the moment unseen. This attack on Hogsmeade was unlike anything the Dark Lord had attempted previously. Snape's sallow features morphed in a humourless, ugly looking smile. It would seem that there was nothing He would stop at now to gain the victory he desired.

Snape watched as the people of the village tried to defend the near helpless students against the Death Eaters. Again and again he saw the villagers make the mistake of not using the killing curse. He bowed his head as they fell. It would be the last mistake they would ever make. With Death Eaters, morals were more a hindrance than a help, whether you were fighting them or were one yourself. There was but one curse that would stop them every time.

His eyes narrowed as he pondered why he had not been informed of this attack. Perhaps that crazy harpy had finally convinced the Dark Lord of his treachery. Snape was shocked to feel a glimmer of relief instead of the expected paralysing fear. One way or another, this wretched life would be over. If that were indeed the case, he would take the greatest pleasure in hexing Bellatrix LeStrange from this plain of existence. If he was going to die today, he was taking her with him and then he was going to torture her for the entirety of his afterlife. On the other hand, he would rather survive this day, this war. The only way to achieve that was through Potter.

Decision made, Snape cast a disillusionment charm on himself and made his way carefully into the fray. The repulsive stench of scorched flesh made him want to gag. Debris littered the ground along side the bodies of those fallen. Death Eaters and villagers lay beside each other, some bloody, some with not a mark upon them. Death had a way of making everyone equal in the way life never could. Were he not in danger of joining them at any moment he would have rolled his eyes at his morbid thoughts. Snape was well aware of his dour outlook on life; he had scare little to be cheery about. But this was bad even for him. He shook his head.

_Focus on the situation at hand Severus_!

He prayed that someone managed to escape the village and raise the alarm with the Order. There was no way a few dozen children could defeat the deadliest of the Dark Lord's followers. Hopefully they would get here in time. Snape dodged stray curses and flailing bodies. Thankfully years of evading attacks from his fellow Death Eaters had honed his reflexes quite well. When one expects to be stabbed in the back at every turn, one puts great effort into learning how to avoid that very thing. He blocked out the screams of pain as much as possible, of friend and foe alike. There was no way he could help anyone without being killed himself. He had only one purpose in entering this hellish battle and that was to get Potter and his friends out alive. Getting killed would do nothing to achieve that goal.

With the suddenness of a lightening strike, everything fell silent. The air around him became heavy and thick. Movement grew harder as the seconds ticked by, as though his limbs were being transformed into lead. Every wand in the hands of fighters Dark and Light ceased to function. Every curse and hex dissipated without a trace, including his disillusionment charm. Snape froze recognizing the effects of a magical dampening field.

Somewhere in the mute crowd Bellatrix let out an insane cackle. "They're here!" she screeched.

Snape's eyes widened in horror, he didn't bother trying to control his reaction. This could only mean one thing, something he still had nightmares about. He needed to find Potter, now! Within a moment he spurred his now cumbersome legs into action. His awkward limbs carried him onwards through the throng of people frozen in fear and rightly so. As he ran, Snape spared a moment of regret for the students lying on the ground like discarded rag dolls and the ones fated to join them. Death was not a thing they deserved.

Sweat trickled down his back as he wove his way around person after person. He had to reach those idiot Gryffindors before the Angels arrived or Bellatrix noticed his mad dash. Otherwise Potter's bloody entrails would be decorating the cobbled streets and Bellatrix would gain a pair of new playthings.

Snape halted as he heard Granger's voice. "Harry we need to go, we have to get to Dumbledore."

The chit had a modicum of common sense; he had to give her that, even if her association with a _Weasley_, of all people, made him doubt that fact.

"The Mudblood will not stay to witness the Storm of Angels? How very rude. But what can you expect of such filth?"

Snape tensed instantly when he heard Karkaroff's voice. He followed the sound of it to the entrance of a dank alleyway beside a long abandoned shop.

"You take one step towards her and I swear you'll regret it."

Snape raised a brow at Potter's belligerent tone. The boy was fearless when it those irritating friends of his were concerned. As much as he wished, he could not fault the boy for his loyalty or his courage.

He turned to check he was not being watched and to make sure Bellatrix was nowhere in the vicinity. Bellatrix LeStrange had left sanity behind many years before, but as a warrior there were few that would survive in a fight against her. A dagger in her hand was just as deadly as a wand.

Snape pressed himself against the wall of the shop and leant forward just far enough to glimpse into the alleyway. It was filled with old wooden crates and vile smelling rubbish. Weasley lay on his back in a pool of dirty water at the end of the alley, with Potter and Granger standing protectively in front of him. The two were pale and their eyes were wide with fear. Potter bent down without taking his eyes from Karkaroff and grasped the piece of wood near the unconscious boy. He rose gracefully, holding the piece of chunky wood tightly in his hands.

Snape stepped into the alley without notice. He did not have to rely on spells alone to remain unseen. He ducked down behind a couple of rotting crates. Snape peeked around them carefully.

Karkaroff let out a laugh as he rested against the wall. "It will do you no good, nor your friend." He gestured to Granger with a long, curved sword, "You, I will fillet and feed the pieces of your useless flesh to the pets of My Lord. The pain will be unlike anything you can imagine Mudblood."

Snape almost snorted in derision. _Igor always did have a love of his own voice. He also does not realise that Potter will take his chance to strike when his friends are in danger._

Karkaroff ran a finger over the smooth metal of his sword. "Unfortunately Potter, My Lord wishes you to die at his feet. Perhaps he will give me the honour of performing that task."

As Karkaroff advanced slowly on the pair of teenagers, Snape ran through his options quickly and quickly acted on the only viable one. He placed his wand onto the grubby cobble stones and carefully removed his small dagger from the sheath strapped to his ankle. He would only get one chance. With an ease born of years of practice, Snape rose, aimed and sent the dagger flying.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note: I hope you all enjoyed the first chapter of "No Escape". With any luck, this chapter will be as "good" as the last. I noticed a few mistakes _after_ I'd posted it. At the moment I have no beta reader and I inevitably miss _something_. So, my apologies for those few mistakes in the last chapter and those that will probably pop up in this one, I never catch them when I read through something myself.

This chapter is in honour of all those who put my story on alert. Some people actually think this thing is worth reading! I certainly hope so. Well_,_ obligatory blathering over and done with, now on with the story.

* * *

"What the…." Harry jumped back, startled and felt Hermione do the same thing beside him. Karkaroff had dropped his sword on the cobbles with a loud clatter. The Death Eater clutched his leg in agony as the dagger drove deep into the thick muscle of his thigh. He man let out a shout of pain. The lethal poison of the tipped blade seeped into his system, making his muscles clench as if someone was casting _Crucio_ on him. Karkaroff slumped to the ground.

Harry gaped in surprise. What had just happened? He turned his head to the right to look at Hermione. She was as shocked as he was.

"Potter don't stand there mimicking a fish, get a move on!" The Professor strode quickly from his hiding place towards his three most annoying sixth years.

Harry turned at the sound of Snape's voice and pushed Hermione behind him. He raised the thick piece of wood in front of him. His hands were shaking. There was something wrong with his magic. It was still there but no matter how hard he tried, he was not able to reach it. He was terrified. "Don't come any closer," Harry's voice shook as much as his voice. "How do I know you're not working with them? "

Severus glared at the boy. There were several dozen Death Eaters swarming the village, The Storm of Angels was about to arrive and Karkaroff's yell had most likely drawn attention to their position. Now was not the time to argue. "You idiot, for once you need to listen! I commend your paranoia. But at this point in time, the most important thing is getting you safely to Hogwarts not practising the teachings of a crack pot Auror."

Harry somehow steadied his hands. He didn't lower his makeshift weapon an inch. "You might've been sent here to kill us."

Severus grit his teeth in irritation. "There is nothing I can say to you that will convince you otherwise Potter. You hate me and the feeling is certainly mutual. "

Hermione placed her hand on Harry's arm. "Harry, we have to…"

"No Hermione. I need to know. I can't feel we're okay with him unless I do."

Severus blinked at Potter's tone of voice. He had never heard such a thing come from the boy's mouth before this day. Potter sounded self assured and strong, for all his voice was trembling somewhat, very unlike the bumbling dim wit Severus knew and loathed.

"Why are you doing this?" Potter asked quietly.

Severus sneered. "Doing what Potter? Saving your miserable hide yet again."

The infuriating boy simply gave a slight nod and waited for Snape to answer.

Severus took a step forward.

"You come any closer and I will shout so loud that every Death Eater in Hogsmeade will come running to this alley."

Hermione gave a growl of frustration. She was frightened for herself and her friends. If Professor Snape was willing to help them escape, she was willing to let him. "Harry, Professor Snape is here to help us. We have to trust him."

Harry kept his eyes on the potions master. "Why?" he asked bluntly.

The girl floundered for an instant. "Dumbledore trusts him Harry."

"Not good enough. Dumbledore trusts a lot of people."

Severus could feel desperation well up inside him. They could be captured at any time. "You saw my memory Potter," he said angrily. "What other motive do you wish for?" He didn't want to spill his thoughts to some obnoxious student, particularly not the spawn of James Potter. "You are already aware of part of my reasoning. If you would use that mind of yours, you would see that."

Potter merely stared at him. _Lily's eyes stared at him. The eyes of his friend, his sister, his obsession._ There was no way he could resist Potter's gaze, not when it seemed so much like _hers._

Almost against his will, he was compelled to say, "I wish to live again. This thing is not life. It is a purgatory I wish to end." Severus finished wearily, bowing his head. "I can only do that with your help. You are the one that has to rid us of him. The Dark Lord has made it so."

Harry studied the older man for a moment. He didn't have the book smarts of Hermione, but he knew that Snape would never reveal something like that unless there was no other choice. Harry hadn't exactly given him one. "Fine let's go. Can you revive Ron, Professor?"

Severus' head jerked up in surprise. "You believe me?"

Harry gave a slight nod of his head. "About wanting to help us, I believe you." He looked at Snape. "I know how much you regret what happened that day. You want to try and make up for it." Harry grinned a little. "I also know what it's like to want to live. I don't trust you and I don't like you. But I know now that you don't want to kill us. That's enough at the moment. Self preservation is a pretty good motivator."

Severus stared at the boy for a second then walked past Potter and Granger. He knelt beside Weasley. Taking a small vial from his robes, he uncorked it and held it close to Weasley's nose. The red head awoke to find his most hated teacher looming over him. He opened his mouth to scream. Severus quickly clamped his free hand over Weasley's mouth. "Not one sound," he whispered and removed his hand slowly.

Hermione ran forward as Severus backed away. "Oh Ronald!" she sobbed.

Severus rolled his eyes at her antics. _Gryffindors!_ He walked the few steps to Igor. The man was pale and sweating.

Igor reached out a hand feebly towards his sword as Snape drew closer.

"Now, now, none of that my old friend," Severus drawled in a mocking voice.

"Traitor!" he wheezed.

Harry came to stand by the potions master. They watched in silence as Karkaroff closed his eyes for the last time. Harry was surprised to find that he felt nothing as the man died. No satisfaction or hatred, no sorrow or joy. He just knew that Karkaroff would have had to die if they were to have a chance to escape.

Severus bent down and pulled his knife from the dead man's thigh. He sheathed it carefully in his ankle holster.

"What now?" Hermione's quiet inquiry was clearly heard from her position beside the still disorientated Ron Weasley.

Severus mulled over the answer to that question. The only way to escape was a miracle.

"We've tarried too long. Igor will have been missed by now. The Death Eater in charge will have organised a search, our capture is imminent."

Harry flinched at Snape's emotionless tone. It was worse than listening to his voice quiver in anger. He should know, he'd been on the receiving end of it more times than he wanted to remember.

"There has to be something we can do!" he blurted before he could stop himself. Snape had survived spying on Voldemort, he had survived the Headmaster. He had to know a way to get out of this.

Severus couldn't restrain himself from rolling his eyes, despite the dire situation. Nor did he bother to point out that it was Potter's fault they had wasted so much time.

Time they could have used to find a more secure hiding place as they waited for the Order to arrive. Unwelcome thoughts made their presence know in quick succession. What if the Order had not been informed? Perhaps they were amongst that helpless crowd waiting for their turn at slaughter?

"There is nothing Potter, nothing," Severus ground out. "There is no choice but to wait here to die."

"Prophetic words Master Snape."

Severus swivelled at the hushed statement. He stepped backwards, pushing Potter back also.

"For you certainly they will come true. You children shall survive a while longer."

Weasley let out a whimper of fear. He felt a twinge of sorrow. Of course a Weasley child would know of Them.

The masked figures appeared to glide towards them. Black robes swayed gracefully as if caught in a gentle summer breeze. Slim white gloved hands were clasped demurely as if in prayer. The stark white of the beings gloves stood out clearly from their place on the waist.

Painted masks glinted as they moved. The eye holes were lined in darkest red. Three perfectly shaped, red tears blinked in and out of sight over and over again on the surface of the mask, The Teared Mask of the Angels. It was the symbol of death, the weeping of life's last blood.

Severus resisted the urge to fall to his knees and beg for mercy at the feet of the Angels. But his pride would not let him commit such treason on himself. For once it was doing him a favour. The three teenagers were quiet. The silence did not come as a blessed relief like it usually did. It was deafening, suffocating. The knowledge that he had failed was all encompassing. There was nothing he could do; there was no escape to be made.

Severus looked up. He would face his end with his eyes wide open. As one of the Angels drew nearer, he steeled himself for the fatal blow. Then he was enveloped in black robes.


	3. Chapter 3

There was no pain. He was dead. His wretched joke of an existence was over. Snape was shocked not to feel as relieved as he expected. Disappointment coiled in his belly like a ball of barbed wire.

_Disappointment? _The thought struck him like a bolt of lightning between the eyes. Mentally Snape lambasted himself for the comparison even as he wondered. Could a person feel disappointed after death?

Death had long represented his only possible version of peace, his escape from a hell of his own creation. Snape gave a mental sigh. Why was it he was only wrong when it had terrible consequences for him or others? That thougt brought with it memories, memories which rushed to the surface of his mind.

The village, the battle, the dead. Potter. What had happened to Potter? The wizarding world as they knew it would be obliterated if the Dark Lord managed to kill that juvenile little oaf.

_"Another you couldn't save,"_ his conscience goaded.

Snape would never try to deny that. Many lives had ended at his hands. Directly and indirectly. The blood of many innocent people covered his potion stained hands with indelible marks. Each one paid a portion of his fare to hell.

_"By now I have a first class ticket," _he thought.

This could not be the afterlife he was set for. It was far too peaceful for his deeds. Snape came to the most probable conclusion. He was alive.

Snape could not let himself feel joy at that fact. He could be lying in a prison pit of the Angels. A fate which he had no doubt would be worse than death. The realms of Hell could not improve upon the tortures the Angels were capable of.

For the first time since he was a child, Severus Snape prayed for himself.

* * *

"Why isn't he awake?"

Harry, Ron and Hermione stood close together in one corner of the ramshackle hut they'd woken in. The Angel faced them in all its horrific splendour.

"For his reasons alone."

It turned and crouched to examine the man laid prone on the floor. The Angel tilted its head this way and that, as though searching for something they could not see. For all they knew that was what it was doing.

Hermione and Ron shrank back as the Angel turned to face them again. Harry stood his ground. The thing before them held no significance for him.

_"Hermione must have read about them,"_ Harry thought to himself without surprise.

Was he the only one who didn't know about them? The other students had been terrified too...

Harry stopped himself right there. He couldn't think about them. Not now.

"Why isn't he awake?" Harry repeated.

The Angel was intrigued by the fearlessness of the boy. It was not a thing one of Them often encountered. That alone spurred it to answer the question.

"The spell affects in different ways." Its bland voice was melodious and satin smooth. Under that satin was a definite hint of cold steel. It was a warning not to question.

As he did with a lot of things, Harry ignored it.

"So why is it affecting him this way? We woke up before him. Why didn't come to at the same time?"

The Angel stepped closer to Harry, towering over him not unlike the way the Dementors had. Harry stopped himself from moving back like Hermione and Ron. Tempting as it was, he refused to flinch. He needed to know what was happening to Snape. The man was a bastard. But he was a bastard who'd risked his life to rescue them.

The Angel sighed. Harry was surprised to hear such a normal sound coming from something so inhuman in appearance.

"You are most stubborn."

Harry frowned. "That's not the information I wanted."

The Angel took its wand from the voluminous, black robes swathed around it. It quickly cast a privacy spell. Privately Harry thought that a bit pointless. They were in a disgusting shack in the middle of nowhere. Who could be listening? Then Pettigrew and Skeeter came to mind.

"What I am about to tell you goes no further than these walls. This is _our_ knowledge. I am trusting you three with it and you alone. Do you agree?"

Murmurs of consent sounded within wood worm eaten walls of the shack.

Goosebumps rose on Harry's skin as a wave of magic washed over him.

Ron groaned. "Mum is going to kill me. I've made a vow. She's going to murder me!"

The Angel ignored the mutters of the red haired boy.

"I will know."

Its simple statement was met with silence

Harry didn't doubt that it would know.

"He must wake himself. If he does not have the will to wake, he will not."

Hermione was awestruck. "So it's a spell that mimics death in every way until the person decides to wake? Amazing."

"Amazing! Are you mad? It's bloody terrifying, that's what it is!"

The Angel turned to Ron. "That is why it was created. Those who wake spread the fear of Us."

"How were you able to cast it?" Hermione asked. Her fear was pushed to one side by her need to _know. _She continued speaking, hardly pausing for breath.

_"_There was a magic nullifying field in Hogsmeade. I've read about them. No one should've been able to cast a spell."

Harry shook his head. Hermione would never change. But he was surprised she hadn't figured it out already. For one he knew an answer without Hermione telling him it. He couldn't help but grin.

"It was timed," Harry said quietly. "That lot showed up when the spell ended. How else could they apparate?"

Ron and Hermione gaped at their friend.

He didn't notice as he thought of how to word what he was thinking. "They use it is an illusion of power. Or at least more powerful than they are. What would be the point of fighting things that can apparently steal magic?

Harry grew uncomfortable. "Look, it's not that hard to figure out."

His friends shared a look that frankly annoyed Harry. It was the Chamber all over again.

The Angel watched with interest. The youngsters seemed to have forgotten it was present. That was an unusual reaction. It focused on Harry Potter. What did he see of the Angels that the magical world did not?

Harry sighed. "They use fear. What could be more terrifying to a magical person than not being able to do magic?"

Ron and Hermione gave him no answer. Harry went on.

"They turn something that makes witches and wizards strong into something that makes them weak. You all use your magic for every little thing. It's like they've cut off your leg. Their greatest power is fear. Just like it's Voldemort's."

"Even I can figure stuff out sometimes," Harry said with a forced grin.

His friends were still staring at him as though he'd grown another head.

"Everyone panicked. It made things even easier for Voldemort."

Harry ignored the resultant wince from his friends. The ensuing silence between the trio was awkward.

"That was what they set out to do. It worked well too."

A gasp of shock came from Hermione at Harry's words.

Ron's face mottled red in anger. "You heartless..."

He was interrupted by Snape shifting on the floor.


End file.
